Simers: National obsession has a dark side

Nov. 9, 2013

Updated 8:19 p.m.

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The St. Louis Rams' Austin Pettis, right, loses the ball on a punt return as he is hit by Washington's Niles Paul during a game in 2011. Paul says was been fined $20,000 for a helmet-to-helmet hit, the kind that brings into qeustion the safety of football. SETH PERLMAN, AP

The St. Louis Rams' Austin Pettis, right, loses the ball on a punt return as he is hit by Washington's Niles Paul during a game in 2011. Paul says was been fined $20,000 for a helmet-to-helmet hit, the kind that brings into qeustion the safety of football. SETH PERLMAN, AP

I don't know if you followed the Spartacus Saga on TV the past few years, Spartacus working himself into shape to become the premier gladiator of his time.

He was amazing, almost never going on injured reserve.

To put it in modern-day terms, Spartacus would have made a terrific head-hunting strong safety.

That means he would have probably run afoul of NFL commissioner Roger Goodell, maybe even leading an uprising against Goodell.

But as heroic as Spartacus came off, I wonder if the spectators back in his time struggled, as we do now, with the way the games were played in the arena.

Did they spend the six days between events listening to talking senators going back and forth questioning the severity of blows delivered?

Were their sports columnists filling scrolls full of righteous indignation?

I saw the stranglehold the women in Spartacus had on their men; would they have insisted their sons become accountants, and play soccer instead?

The other day broadcaster Colin Cowherd, the Socrates of our time, talked about the NFL's effort to sell lingerie and clothing to women, knowing they are also mothers and can't very well tell their sons not to play football while wearing a Manning jersey around the house.

The fact that the NFL would be worried about mothers telling their sons not to play football is telling as is. I just hope Cowherd has a food tester working for him.

Now I don't know what they called Starbucks back in Spartacus' day, but I would imagine while sipping whatever they sipped, most folks were appalled by the violence they were seeing in the games.

People are people no matter where and when they lived, and usually offended by the same things whether they do their shopping at Home Depot or not.

As fans they had to question where the games were going, sometimes their stars losing their heads and quite literally. It was a little like free agency, everyone falling in love with someone only to find him suddenly gone.

And yet the games were incredibly popular, the fans shown on the Spartacus Saga filling the arena, drinking, the women half dressed and it was pretty much like a Raiders' crowd.

Obviously we love the NFL like we love no other sport. A lackluster NFL game still earns higher TV ratings than the World Series.

We all get together at the house every Sunday, food everywhere as my wife, daughter and I watch the Red Zone channel and every score in the NFL.

There is nothing like being a family, everyone screaming in unison at Andrew Siciliano to shut up when he tries to be funny. I can't recall a Sunday where there wasn't a great game played. Come on; is there a better show on TV than the NFL?

We spend the other six days of the week like everyone else, condemning what is going on in the league; the head injuries, the Dolphins' situation, the toll on coaches and the latest report that one of our gladiators has been arrested with a DWI.

Had I been lucky to have boys instead of cheerleaders, I would have driven them to football practice and loved the games.

Had my daughter given me grandsons instead of granddaughters, I would have fought to keep them from ever playing football.

Things have changed that much.

It's a fascinating commentary on our society now, everyone knowing how brutal the game can be, and yet football on Friday nights, Saturday afternoons and all day Sunday as popular as ever.

I know how far they have gone to make the game safer. But you should have seen the variety of helmets they tried wearing back in Spartacus' days. None of them really worked. A good crack to helmet and it was usually enough to end someone's career.

There has been progress, all right, and Spartacus thought he was going to prevail. Progress now comes in the form of regular news reports about some great football player from the past who is suffering now.

So how does any parent, knowing what we know now about concussions, allow their child to knock heads with another?

The answer is easy: We're all hypocrites.

We abhor the big hits almost as much as we love them.

Some crazy people have suggested football will go away one day. But are they so crazy?

It's impossible to fathom given the sports' popularity, but as more information about the brutality of the sport becomes public, what happens if folks choose to no longer roll the dice with the health of their children?

I understand why Spartacus & Co. had no choice but to perform to the delight of the people back in their day.

And there's no question we're slaves to our own love of the game, the welfare of our fantasy teams and maybe bets made.

But let me tell you from experience, there's only so much Siciliano one can take.

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